RWBY's Freaky Friday
by FiercesomestDragon
Summary: The members of teams RWBY and JNPR get their bodies swapped with their partners. Can Ruby and co. get things set straight? Or will they be trapped as each other FOREVER? Chapter 8: Ren defends his manhood.
1. Prologue

**A/N: Having the flu sucks. On the bright side, during one of my 2 a.m. coughing fits, I was struck with this idea. I've only done a minor search to see if anyone else has already done a take on the whole body-swap thing, and only found one fic by knives4cash (who does some pretty funny stuff. Check it out.) so hopefully I'm not rehashing something some other author has totally nailed. **

**Anyway, prologue time.**

* * *

The sun hung low and orange over the horizon despite the hour, a testament to the growing hold spring had over the land of Vale. The honey-coated light slid through the gap in the thick red curtains, painting a stripe across the tile floor of the quite dorm room.

The scene was as familiar as a cup of coffee: bookshelves stacked with textbooks and a scattering of novels, a neat pile of silver-white luggage containing quantities of Dust in the corner, and four beds, precariously bunked by means of an assortment of ropes and hardbound books. Posters and paintings adorned the walls, and not a few half-finished homework assignments lay awaiting completion spread across the tops of the desks against either wall.

All in all, it was a quiet scene. Quiet and peaceful right up till the moment when the door slammed open, admitting the bedraggled quartet of girls that comprised Beacon's shinning stars: Team RWBY.

"See you in the morning," the first to drag her feet across the threshold was Yang Xiao Long. She collapsed in a blonde tangle on the lower bunk belonging to her partner, Blake Belladonna, who was quite frankly too worn out to do much more than growl about the intrusion of space and tumble in beside her, still fully dressed.

Following at their heels came the youngest of the team, who was coincidentally the team leader, Ruby Rose. The girl scrubbed at her eyes with her fist and almost tripped over the crimson cape that drooped from her shoulders.

"Don't block the door, you dunce," Weiss Schnee, heiress to the Schnee Dust Company, lacked the energy to add any bite to her scolding tonight. She shoved her way past, shedding her icicle hair decoration and the tie fixing her snowy hair into its trademark asymmetrical ponytail so it spilled loose around her shoulders.

"Ruby, brush your teeth," came a sleepy directive from Blake and Yang's bunk.

"Sis, come on. I'm so tired," Ruby whined, fumbling with the clasp of her cape. It didn't seem to want to come undone. She flicked some of her short, dark hair out of her eyes. Screw it. She could change without taking her cape off and still shoot back at her sister an accusing, "You didn't brush yours."

A mess of unintelligible grumbling was all the response she got. Sanction enough to skip on hygiene for the night. It had been a long day, after all. A loooooong day.

First, they'd overslept and missed breakfast. In retrospect, staying up till four in the morning playing trivial pursuit with Team JNPR hadn't been the brightest idea. (But they had _won_.) After that, a steady downward spiral of class disasters and combat practice mishaps all culminated in a lengthy visit to Professor Goodwitch's office to explain the Dust explosion in Ozpin's lab lecture that both teams may or may not have played an integral part in.

"I think I still have Dust in my ears," Ruby mumbled, tapping herself on the side of her head with her palm to see if any fell out. Weiss, already changed into her pale gray nightgown, scoffed at her.

"Well, if you'd just _listened_ when I told you not to mix Dust types if you weren't one hundred and fifty percent sure of what they were…"

"How can you be a hundred and _fifty_ percent sure? That's…" Ruby's brow scrunched together with the effort of the thought, as she pulled on her pink rose-covered pajama pants. "…more than a hundred percent."

"Precisely."

On the other side of the room, Blake and Yang were already lost to the world. Blake was still wearing the black ribbon she used to disguise her faunus heritage. Her cat ears were a little unruly at times—easily irritated, and all that. The bow twitched in her sleep as her partner snored.

Ruby shut the curtains and climbed into her bunk, too tired to muster a comeback in her argument with Weiss. The heiress was _exhausting_ sometimes. And it hadn't been her fault that the bottles of Dust had been mislabeled. Or not labeled. She couldn't remember. Oh well. The bed swung a bit on its ropes.

Below her, Weiss was just cross enough to continue scolding, but just tired enough to let it end. "The tournament's coming up. We'll need a lot of sleep to make up for how ridiculously tiresome dealing with today's mess was."

"I'll get right on it," the response was somewhat muffled through her pillow. It was sufficient.

Weiss gave a satisfied hmph and pulled the comforter up to her shoulders, sinking into the sweet oblivion of warmth and fatigue.

Little did she—little did _any_ of them—suspect the twist fate had in store for them come morning. For now, they slept, oblivious to the change working in them as they slept.

The room was quiet again as outside the sun continued to sink below the horizon.

Across the hall, Team JNPR, all of whose members had been caught up in the explosion in the dust lab, thought that they had come clear of the episode with singed eyebrows and nothing more.

Juane Arc, leader of the team, sprawled with his blonde hair in disarray. Pyrrha Nikos slept on her left side, protecting her heart. Lie Ren could sleep through an earthquake; Nora Valkyrie could cause one, but at the moment lay curled around her pillow, smiling contentedly in her dreams.

They'd survived another relatively normal school day at Beacon, and now the four team members slumbered in peace without the slightest inkling that the following day would be anything out of the ordinary.

Oh, how very, very wrong they all were.

* * *

**A/N: Bleah, it's short and completely leaves you hanging, but there it is. I tried to clean it up a bit, but as it's been mostly a means of distracting myself from hacking up junk and drowning myself in tea, I may have missed a few things. The next chapter should be up before too long. **

**In the meantime, leave a review! **


	2. The Swap

**A/N: First real chapter. Thanks for the reviews on the prologue. Like origin of summoners said, there's really only two ways this is going to go. Hopefully it doesn't suck.**

**Starts a little slow, but whatever. Let the chaos begin.**

* * *

Ruby liked to read. The stories often gave her dreams—vivid nightscape adventures alongside the Huntsmen and Huntresses that had inspired her to join the fight against the Grimm. It was awesome—very nearly as awesome as the stories themselves. (After all, the stories were real. Her dreams… not quite yet.)

She hadn't quite struck the balance here at Beacon that allowed her much time for leisure reading, but she was sure it would come. For now, she really did need to focus on staying on top of her studies and her training. Skipping ahead two years in school was no joke.

Still, Ruby loved to read.

That said, there were a few literary devices and turns of phrase that she occasionally came across that she didn't really 'get'. That overwhelming urge characters have to open the door you _just know_ leads to the bone riddled lair of the Grimm murderer, for instance. Geez, people, you haven't been living in candy land. At least _shoot_ down the door.

Another often used, seldom understood device occurred when a single character (often female but not always the case) becomes aware of the sound of someone screaming. The way the scenario plays out is always the same: First, the character hears screaming. Next, after a moment of confusion, the character in question realizes that the person screaming is in fact herself. Finally, whatever is causing the screaming proceeds to attack or get worse or whatever_. _

Now really, Ruby was quite skeptical of this situation. How could the person screaming not know who was screaming? It takes a certain amount of effort to muster that kind of volume, and it seemed like it would be pretty darn hard to not notice if you were the one doing it. The best that Ruby could figure was that maybe these characters were just really out of it. Which was a descriptor that certainly applied to her this particular pre-dawn morning when she was dragged from sleep by an awful series of shrieks.

She threw off her blankets and lunged forward, intending to reach the end of her bed to see who what was going on, but whacked her head on the ceiling, which was lower than she'd expected.

If there's a threat you've gotta stay in motion. Was that from class, or from a movie? Maybe it was from that time she played paintball with Yang. Ruby was too muddled to be sure, but that didn't stop her from somersaulting off the side of the mattress.

"Ack!" she hit the cold tile—which seemed _much_ closer than usual—head first and sprawled there for a second. Before she could puzzle out how the floor had moved, the shriek sounded out again. Ruby suddenly realized that it sounded familiar. Super familiar. Weird familiar. Was that… her voice? Coming from the bathroom?

Blake and Yang had already untangled themselves from their blankets. They ignored her and raced for the rectangle of light shinning through the crack in the bathroom door, shouting.

"Ruby, what's wrong? What happened? Are you okay?"

"I… uh…" Ruby, abandoned on the floor in the dark, scrambled up and followed them to the bathroom to face what was easily one of the most insane sights of her entire life: herself.

Not herself in the mirror's reflection, as per usual, but _herself_ at the sink under the fluorescent lights, staring into the mirror with wild silver eyes.

She was wearing her beowolf sleeping mask on top of her head, her pink rose pajama pants, even her crimson cape, clasped and tangled around her shoulders. Blake and Yang were there, disheveled with sleep, staring at this… this other Ruby.

_This has to be a dream_, Ruby surmised, looking down at her hands for Crescent Rose, who usually appeared in her grip in dreams. Next would come the Grimm from under Blake's bed, and… wait a minute. She curled her fingers to her palm to examine the delicate skin, the perfect nails. These weren't her hands.

She looked back up just in time to lock gazes with the other Ruby, who had whirled to face her, pressing back against the counter. "What is this?!" her double—not her double, but not herself—the… the… _not_-Ruby shrilled, "_Is this some kind of joke?_"

At this point, Ruby caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror—or more accurately caught a glimpse of _Weiss_. Ruby shook her head, and Weiss in the mirror did too. She noticed white stuff at the edge of her vision. It was hair. Weiss's hair. She looked down at herself and her jaw dropped. "This… is a new kind of dream," she wasn't particularly crazy about this one either. Time to abort the mission: she shut her eyes and pinched herself hard. Nothing happened except a sharp jolt of pain that told her she was in fact quite awake.

Meanwhile, Yang's body looked at Blake's, sniffed experimentally, and took several quick steps back. "… Yang?"

Blake's gold eyes tore themselves away from the panicked Ruby at the sink. She pointed and shrieked, "_Holy crap! _You look just like me! Who are you? What are you? Is this like one of those sci-fi features where space invaders try to replace people with clones?" she dropped into a fighting stance complete with raised fists, "_It's not gonna be that easy._"

"Weiss, is that you?" Ruby—now apparently Weiss—hazarded to the girl at the mirror.

That Ruby reared up, narrowing her eyes, "Of _course_ it's me, you—you—?"

"Uh, I'm Ruby?"

"Oh _Dust_ no," Ruby's body stalked across the small bathroom and throttled Weiss, "Fix this. Fix this, right now, you absolute _moron_!"

"I'm Blake, I'm Blake, I'm Blake!" Yang shouted, lunging to the top of the toilet as Blake ripped one of the iron towel bars free from the wall. The black-haired faunus swung it up over her shoulder like a baseball bat.

"_Take this, alien scum!_"

* * *

Approximately fifteen minutes and one sizeable hole in the drywall later, Team RWBY sat on the round shag rug in the middle of the dorm room floor, trying to figure out exactly what had happened and what could be done.

"Okay," Ruby cleared her throat and planted her fist in her palm. Businesslike. Better to be businesslike than panicked. "First, the facts. We've all swapped bodies," she indicated her face, "I'm Weiss, Weiss is me, Yang is Blake, and Blake is Yang."

It was evident even in the way everyone sat. Ruby had her legs crossed, nightgown be darned. Weiss was very prim with her legs tucked up under her- an odd contrast with the far from formal heart-beowolf tank-top and rose pajama pants. She was also scowling, which completed the strangeness of the picture. Blake had a cool stance, leaning on her palms so her golden blonde hair tumbled down her back, and Yang…

"Ugh, this is way too confusing to be happening at this time of morning," Yang lay face down on the rug. The sky outside was gradually lightening, still somewhere between pale gray and blue. Suddenly, she jerked back upright. "I smell chocolate," she announced, "Has one of you been hiding chocolate in here?"

"Focus," Blake pinched the bridge of her nose. She still had drywall crumbles in her hair. "So we've swapped with our partners. How? And more importantly, how do we swap back?"

If there were crickets in the room, they would have chirped.

"I vote we go _straight_ to Professor Ozpin with this," Weiss crossed her arms tight over the heart-beowolf on her chest, glowering at Ruby, who groaned in exasperation.

"Why do you keep looking at me like it's my fault? I didn't do anything!"

"I dunno. It could have been that Dust explosion," Yang settled back onto her stomach with a very feline stretch of her spine and plucked at one of the ribbons wound up her arm until Blake swatted her hand. "Oh, two can play at that game," she smirked, swatting back, "and this time _I'm_ the one with the claws."

"Cut it out. I don't have claws," Blake rolled her lavender eyes, her voice utterly devoid of humor. "Also, I don't think Dust usually causes people to switch bodies. But then, I'm not the expert." A significant glance back towards Weiss in Ruby's body, who lifted her chin and glanced around the top of the room with a non-committal expression.

"Well, I've never really _heard_ of it happening before," she said.

Ruby, as Weiss, nodded like that was the final word on the matter. The expert had spoken, and it sounded like she was off the hook for causing that Dust explosion in the lab. At least she probably wasn't responsible for… this. She gathered her new abundance of hair to one side so it would quit getting in her face.

"It could still be _completely_ your fault," Weiss snapped at her suddenly, making her jump. "And stop messing with my hair."

"Okay, seriously. Who has the chocolate? Can cats even eat chocolate? Blake, is your body lactose intolerant at all?" Yang frowned, "I think I should know about this."

"Just stop," this from Blake again. The blonde sat cross-legged with remarkable poise, given the situation.

"Okay, don't worry, team, we'll get this fixed," Ruby said, shifting into team-leader mode, "Weiss, I kind of whined at you when you suggested it before, but I think you're right about going to Professor Ozpin."

Weiss scoffed, straightening imperiously, "Of course I am."

"Any other ideas? No? That settles it then," Ruby pumped her fist, ice-blue eyes alight with determination, "first thing after breakfast, we go to the Headmaster's office."

"After breakfast?" Blake raised one eyebrow.

"Office hours don't start till nine," Yang hopped up onto her knees and threw an arm each around Yang and Ruby, "which gives us an hour and a half to deal with this without killing each other!"

"Oh joy, oh rapture," Weiss deadpanned, blowing a strand of her dark hair out of her eyes as Yang hauled her back and forth in a half-embrace, "I can see that this is going to be so. Much. Fun."

"Still smelling chocolate, by the way. Also, really should've brushed your teeth last night, lil sis."

"Ugh!" Weiss broke away and made a beeline for the bathroom. "_Ugh! _Ruby, am I supposed to use _your_ toothbrush?"

"You… kind of do have my mouth," Ruby grinned nervously and hoped that her sister wouldn't find her stash of leftover Christmas candy with her heightened sense of smell before they left for the cafeteria. This situation couldn't last long, she told herself. Just a little over an hour, and they'd go see Ozpin and get switched back to their rightful bodies. Right. Everything would be fine. Probably.

Weiss emerged from the bathroom, toothbrush still in her mouth, and marched to the wardrobe from which she produced the white dress and red-lined bolero emblazoned with the Schnee family crest on the back. Both of these items she deposited in Ruby's lap, growling through the toothpaste, "Let's just get this over with."

This was going to be a really, really long hour.

* * *

**A/N: Next time, they go to the cafeteria and discover the fate of Team JNPR.  
**

**Again, I tried to clean this up, but could've missed stuff. If it's anything major, I'll fix it. **

**I don't think there's any mention of movies in RWBY, but I figure they must exist if they have cell-phone scroll things and airships. Paintball, too. It would be an excellent training exercise, maybe for the elementary schoolers or pre-K kids. Whoever's too young to wield giant death-scythes. And where the heck does Team RWBY keep their clothes? Bam. Wardrobe. No one question it.  
**

**Also, I have no idea if Blake's being a faunus really gives her any other sorts of sensory advantages in addition to night vision, but for the sake of my amusement I've decided that yes, she does. **

**Should have time this weekend to get the next chapter up. Until then, reviews are nice.**

**EDIT: Made some stylistic adjustments. Hope they work.  
**


	3. Enter Team JNPR

**EDIT 5/9/14: The rest of this note is old news. Feel free to give me feedback on how it played out, though, if you like.**

**A/N: THIS IS REALLY IMPORTANT if you don't want to be confused out of your mind.  
**

**So this is my first body-swap fic, and coming back to it after the work-week I've realized how utterly confusing it it to have Ruby in Weiss's body tagged as simply "Weiss", when really it's Ruby... in Weiss's body, and likewise for all the others. (Shout out to my reviewer, who also pointed this out. I will be shocked if you're the only one who was confused, because /I/ was confused, and I'm the author.)  
**

**I thought it would be easy to remember who was really who, but after doing some research (coughcough reading a bunch of Sailor Moon body swap fanfics coughcough) I've come to the tentative conclusion that it's WAY easier to remember that if I say "Ruby", I mean "Ruby-who-is-currently-trapped-in-Weiss's-body", as opposed to saying "Weiss" and meaning "Ruby-trapped-in-Weiss's-body".  
**

**Bleah, so wow, that was confusing. **

**Short version: I'm going to try tagging everyone by their actual identities. Ruby is Ruby. Blake is Blake. Etc.**

**Everyone has swapped bodies with their partners. I tried to make it easy to remember who's in whose body with descriptors. Tell me if this works better and I'll edit the previous chapter to make it match.**

**Thanks for suffering through that absurdly long author's note. Now, on with the show.**

* * *

They decided to go directly to the cafeteria when it opened at eight instead of chancing the usual 8:45 rush. The fewer people who saw the team in its current predicament, the better.

"Isn't there some kind of emergency contact number for the medical staff? Something?" Weiss scowled as her teammates led the way. Combat classes came first Thursdays, so she was fully dressed in Ruby's black and red boots, leggings, combat skirt, etc., etc., plus her trademark red cape to allay suspicion. If her short, dark hair was a little more neatly combed or her laces a little more neatly laced, well, she couldn't help that. "We aren't seriously going to waltz in to breakfast and hope no one notices."

"It'll be fine. No one we know gets breakfast this early, so no one will even see us. It's a perfect plan," Ruby turned in Weiss's white combat get-up, walking backwards with a smile for two steps before toppling over herself. "Ouch."

"Heels, sis. You're dealing with some serious heels," Yang, in Blake's body, moved to lift Weiss using only one arm, but had to resort to two to get her up. "Geez, Blake, you need to pump a little iron. You can't even lift _Weiss_ one-handed."

"And I would want to because…?" Blake could sense the irritation emanating from Ruby's body. It was odd seeing the younger girl so uptight. It was odd not seeing the decorative plaques and vases in the more shadowed alcoves of the hall with perfect clarity. She had to school her hands not to tug at Yang's too-short, too-tight jacket. The 'too-short' bit wasn't so bad, but the 'too-tight' part was getting to her. What if the zipper slipped? This was a _very _distinct possibility given Yang's build.

"Okay, still, just in case we run into someone who has the slightest chance of noticing, I propose we stop using names that don't match our current… situations," Weiss said, stopping Ruby to fix her body's ponytail back to the correct angle after her tumble.

Ruby just whined. "Why do you have to wear it pulled back so _hard_?"

"Just because you aren't actually me doesn't mean you can be sloppy or unprofessional," Weiss snapped, dusting flecks of dirt off of her white skirt, "If someone takes a picture of _you_ doing something stupid while trapped in _my_ body, _I'm_ the one who's going to have to deal with the repercussions."

"For the record, it's not that hard to take pictures of you doing something stupid in your own body, Weiss," Yang pointed out. "Remember that time we found out you were allergic to Juane's cheap brand of air freshener?"

"Thank you for reminding me. I'll find and destroy all the evidence of that later."

"Weiss—er, Ruby does have a point," Blake mused, "If we don't want half the school after us with questions about this, we'd better start acting our parts."

"It's like we're in disguise!" Yang swung her arms as they passed the tall windows that opened into the courtyard out front. "As each other. For no reason."

"Ooh, ooh," Ruby perked up again once Weiss was finished messing with her hair, "So we've got the appearance thing down for the most part. Let's get with the acting," she cleared her throat and jabbed her finger at each team member in turn, "Ruby (as in you, Weiss), you need to smile more. Blake, you… might want to put off the reading."

"Please, we're at school," she shifted the book so it was behind her back, "And I only brought _one_."

"Such remarkable restraint," Weiss quipped, rolling her now-silver eyes.

Ruby forged on with her critiques, "Yang, I think you just need to talk less and you'll be fine."

"Hey! That was a low blow, sis," Blake's bow twitched and lay flat. Yang flipped and shot her hand up to it, "Whoa! Were those—?"

Blake swatted her fingers away from the hidden cat ears. "Stop it. You'll mess it up."

Weiss ignored Yang and Blake and instead mimicked Ruby's tone, "Ruby, stop smiling so _much_. It makes you look like a dolt. Also, put your shoulders back, and for Dust sake walk _properly_. Have you seriously never worn heels before?"

"Yes, just not this high," Ruby crossed her arms in a near perfect imitation of the heiress whose body she was stuck in, right down to the imperious tilt of her head.

Yang burst out laughing, "Holy crap, that's perfect! Just hold that expression all through breakfast and no one will suspect a thing."

Blake smirked, having apparently given up on Yang as they navigated the deserted halls. "You're turn, 'Ruby'. Smile. Or skip, or something."

"Me?" Weiss turned, "You want me to _skip_?"

"Definitely skip," Ruby seconded.

"C'mon, lil sis. Er. Ruby," Yang corrected herself, trying to get more into character, "Let's see your skipping skills."

Weiss's face went very red very quickly. "Members of the Schnee family do _not_ skip."

"Good thing you're currently a member of the Xiao Long/Rose family," Ruby and Yang threaded their arms through Weiss's, dragging her into a running skip down the hallway.

It would have been quite a scene for other students—the subdued Blake and prickly heiress laughing as they dragged the normally excitable but currently struggling teen down the hall. Fortunately no one was around.

Blake sighed through a smile. They weren't going to be fooling anyone. Anyone who paid any attention, anyway. She jogged (while keeping a close eye on that zipper) to catch up and join the fun.

They arrived at the cafeteria not too much the worse for wear. Ruby tripped over her own feet and almost toppled into the doorframe. Skipping in heels had apparently taken all of her morning's allotted coordination. Weiss was as red as the cape around her shoulders with the embarrassment of being dragged in such an undignified manner by her companions.

Yang and Blake settled into their roles with relative ease, Blake striding boldly ahead of the others and announcing her desire for scrambled eggs and a glass of milk. Yang snagged the book from Blake as she went by and used it to hide the lower half of her face as she stuck her tongue out at Ruby, who returned the gesture even as Weiss clapped a hand over her mouth.

"Don't say anything. Don't look at anyone," Weiss hissed, stopping them before they stepped through the arched doorway into the cafeteria.

"Mmng," Ruby pushed the offending hand away, "And you just smile. Relax! Everything will be fine."

"Please. You act like you're not concerned about this at all," Weiss scowled.

"Um. I would actually really, really like to have my body back. But! Since we can't do anything about that right now, just chill. Stop scowling. Seriously, you might get my face stuck like that."

"Fine. But from you, not a word."

Ruby held her hands up while Weiss fussed over her, brushing her ponytail back off her shoulder and straightening her white bolero. Apparently this image thing was more important to her than Ruby had thought. "I'll make sure to look as irritated as possible, just for you."

And with that, they ventured into the vast, vaulted chamber that served as Beacon's cafeteria. Long wooden tables and benches stretched down the length of the room, at which sat only a handful of students. Coming early was paying off.

A wide, open window connected to the kitchen stretched along the wall opposite the cafeteria entrance, making it easy for the chefs to set out all manner of breakfast foods for the incoming students.

It was a strange sensation, Ruby thought, standing behind herself in the nearly non-existent line for food. She leaned close to her body's ear and whispered, "Get cookies."

Weiss, who had been more than occupied trying to finagle her new size and strength without knocking over cups and trays, jumped, "I can't just eat cookies for breakfast."

"Yes you can."

"Well _you_ can't. Take an apple."

"What? No fair!"

"Just do it."

Ruby was having a significantly easier time scowling now that she had been denied her cookies for breakfast. She was also finding she had to stand very straight to get any good glaring power at Weiss. By the time the two reached the table, the desire to glare had worn off, however, and all that remained was an empty place in her stomach that was supposed to hold cookies but would only see a measly piece of fruit. What a depressing way to start the day. Maybe this was why Weiss was always in such a bad mood in the mornings.

Just as they set their trays down next to Blake and Yang, Team JNPR entered the cafeteria. Yang and Ruby gaped as the impending downfall of their avoid-everyone-we-know plan threaded their way through the tables to get to the food line.

"This… might not be good," Ruby gave a nervous laugh.

Blake's eyes narrowed as she watched them maneuver their way to the food line.

Weiss turned to Yang, seething, "I thought you said they _always_ came later."

"Hey!" Yang held up her hands in defense, "Not my fault they picked this one day to come early."

"Shh. Guys, just play it cool," Blake brushed her golden mane of hair back over her shoulder and took another bite of cereal.

"Good morning, everyone," Jaune was the first to reach the table, bearing a tray of assorted breakfast bagels and jams. His armor was polished bright for the day and he was smiling… a lot. So were the members of Team RWBY. Weiss elbowed Ruby in the ribs to remind her that smile contests were not in character for her.

"Ow! Right. I mean, watch what you're doing," almost as an afterthought, Ruby added, "you dolt."

"_What?_" heads swiveled towards Weiss. She quickly snatched up her tray, "…I mean… _what_… was I thinking, not getting any milk to go with these cookies? Haha… ha." She turned and dashed back down the aisle between the tables.

Ruby caught herself about to laugh and turned it into a coughing fit. Blake rubbed her back dutifully. "Smooth. Very smooth."

Jaune's smile seemed somewhat… strained. He bit into a bagel loaded with strawberry jam and made no move to start any sort of conversation whatsoever. He kept his gaze trained firmly on said bagel while Team RWBY set about eating their own breakfasts.

Yang glanced at him over the top of her book, then glanced at Blake, to her left, quirking an eyebrow. Something was off.

"So, Jaune…" Blake tried to muster the usual pep Yang exuded on a daily basis. It fell a little flat, but Jaune didn't seem to notice. "You look a little flushed. Have you got a fever? Maybe you'd better head to the health center."

"Oh, yeah, well, maybe so," his face really was quite red, "It's just that they open at nine, and I guess… feed a fever, starve a cold, right?"

"Just don't give it to us," Ruby murmured. Honestly, the last thing they needed was to be sick on top of their current predicament.

The rest of Team JNPR showed up in short order. Nora, dressed for battle in her white and pink attire with her orange-red hair swept back behind her ears. She seemed oddly subdued. Ren, on the other hand, seemed oddly… energetic. His clothes and hair were impeccable as always, but he was practically bouncing on his toes. Pyrrha could hardly walk straight, it seemed, and she was still in her pajamas. Something was _definitely_ off.

"You guys… okay?" Yang couldn't resist asking.

"Fine!" Ren crossed his arms on the table. His hair was pulled back in its customary tail, the streak of pink accenting the magenta in his eyes, "Of course we're fine. Everything is completely and totally, unquestionably normal and fine."

"Absolutely." Nora's grip on her mug's slender handle slipped, spilling tea on the table. "Wouldn't you say, Pyrrha?"

Then Pyrrha grimaced, holding her tray almost comically far from the front of her white, sleeveless sleeping shirt. "Oh, yes, I'm definitely… _not_ Jaune trapped in the body of my very attractive female teammate."

Jaune's plastic smile dropped into an expression of acute horror, shifting several shades redder—which shouldn't have even been possible—as Pyrrha stammered on.

"Wait. Crap, I mean, teammate, yes, and attractive, yes, but trapped?" she checked again, "No, that's not right. _Crap._ Sorry, guys."

The entire interaction sent Yang into a fit of very un-Blake-like guffaws, which set Ruby off as well till their combined peals of laughter were loud enough to attract the attention of several other tables. To make matters worse, Weiss 'semblanced' out of nowhere, right into the end of the bench, contaminating everyone's food with milk and rose petals.

"Ack," she collapsed onto the flagstones, coughing. Her cape's hood had flipped up over her head and into her eyes. "Wh-what happened?"

Ruby got up to assist as the rose petals disintegrated. She hauled Weiss to a seat at the table, thumping her on the back. "It's your semblance. It triggers kind of randomly sometimes. I should've warned you."

"I—what?" Weiss snapped her gaze the empty glass in her hand to her partner, "Triggers _randomly_? You mean to tell me you don't have full control over your semblance? What are you, ten years old?!"

"Uh…" Ruby glanced up at the others at the table. Weiss shut her mouth, silver eyes going wide. Their covers were officially blown.

Lie Ren giggled. "Looks like the jig is up."

"Yeah," Jaune's face was still a few shades redder than a tomato. "Um… so… you guys too?"

"Unfortunately," Blake said. It was a relief to drop the act. She sipped from her mug of milk.

Yang shoved Blake's books back to her at once, bursting out with, "Well, at least we're all in this together. W_ay_ less awkward that way."

"Speak for yourself," Pyrrha, who was actually Jaune trapped in Pyrra's body, was unable to figure out what to do with her—well, his— hands after setting down the tray. Jaune clasped them on the table, his expression nothing short of miserable.

"So what happened with you all? Did you just wake up this way?" Detective Ruby Rose stood up halfway and leaned forward. Maybe they'd be able to find a clue to what had caused this. Or… maybe she'd just get Weiss's long, white hair in Blake's plate of eggs. Oops. She snatched the end of her ponytail back and glanced at Weiss, who was still wiping milk off of her shirt.

Nora, in Lie Ren's body, slammed both palms down on the table, launching into the story with gusto, "It all started yesterday when one of the devious kitchen minions switched the sugar packets next to the coffee station for salt packets…"

"We woke up this way," Nora supplied evenly, "and the salt packets went with the french fries. The sugar was on the other side."

"You don't eat fries with sugar?" Nora's surprise was genuine. She continued the story, Ren correcting it as she went along, until Ruby and the others had a pretty clear picture of what had happened. Ren had been the first to wake and discover the switch, and had subsequently woken the others. The ensuing chaos was less pronounced than it had been in Team RWBY's room across the hall (at least it didn't result in any property damage), but Jaune still hadn't been able to bring himself to change out of Pyrrha's night clothes. They had no idea how the swap had occurred, though they had been part of the Dust explosion the previous day, so that was a possibility.

"My personal hypothesis," Nora raised one finger and leaned in conspiratorially, "is that there's a mad scientist in the biology department. Remember all that sap we collected for them? What did they do with it? Why did they need so much? It's veeeery suspicious, if you ask me."

"Do you think this is a Beacon-wide thing?" Yang glanced at the other tables surrounding them. The other students seemed to be acting normally, though. Half-awake, studying madly for classes, or just muddling through breakfast. "I'm still leaning towards aliens. You guys didn't happen to see any bright lights outside your window, or anything?"

"Well, not that this discussion isn't absolutely fascinating," Weiss interrupted, pushing her plate of cookies away and picking up Ruby's untouched apple, "but we're going to see Ozpin at nine." To Team JNPR, "I assume that's why you're here early?"

"Actually, we were just hoping to avoid you all," Pyrrha rubbed the back of her head, shifting her shoulders under Jaune's armor uncomfortably.

"Do you really think Professor Ozpin can help?" Jaune drooped behind the tray of pancakes in front of him, "What if we're stuck like this? Forever?" A new and horrifying thought seemed to strike her, and the pitch of her voice began to rise in panic, "Guys, how am I supposed to go to the bathroom?"

"Oh, you have _got_ to be kidding me," Weiss narrowed silver eyes at him in scathing derision. "You're stuck in someone else's body three days before the _tournament_, and _that's_ what you're worried about?"

"With all due respect, Snow Angel, you haven't exactly switched genders," Jaune started to cross his arms but changed his mind mid-way, swallowing hard, "I'm missing a very integral part of my person and have gained several… very different…" he stumbled to the end of the sentence, suddenly unable to meet anyone's gaze, "…pieces of equipment."

"They're breasts, Jaune," Pyrrha sighed, maintaining her stunning blush, "and I certainly forgive you for whatever you see while trying to use the ladies' room. I'll have to do likewise using the men's, after all."

Yang reached across the table to pat Jaune on the shoulder, "Look on the bright side: at least it's not Pyrrha's time of the month. Er." a hazarded glance at Pyrrha, "Is it?"

"Time of the month?" Jaune sounded mystified. Pyrrha covered her eyes with one hand and shook her head.

"It's better not to think about it, Jaune," Ren sipped from his mug. It was strange seeing Nora's body acting so mellow. "I truly feel your pain."

Nora returned in Ren's body, happy as a clam, with a bowl of syrup with a couple of pancakes floating around in it.

"It looks like you two are taking this pretty well, actually," Yang glanced between the two of them.

"Well, of course. It's no big deal," Nora rolled her eyes, "I mean, it's not like Ren and I haven't seen each other naked, like, a million times."

This announcement was met with a collective spewing of milk/tea/eggs.

"Six. We were six," Ren cleared his throat, "In the bath. At Nora's parents' house."

"Well, yes, right," Ruby announced, hopping up from the table, "Look at the time. Ready to go everyone?'

And so Teams RWBY and JNPR finished breakfast and exited the dining hall, Ruby realized, with growing uncertainty, that she might not be able to wield Crescent Rose while she was stuck in Weiss's body. All the training she had done over the years… she looked down at her hands, which were smaller and neater than her own. What if she were trapped like this for the rest of her life? Could she still function as a huntress?

The others were plagued with similar questions, many of which were too weighty to be voiced while there was still hope of a swift remedy to the situation. The bell chimed for nine-o'clock as the eight students reached the administration building, holding out hope that Professor Ozpin would be able to aid them in their unusual plight.

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**A/N: Jaune is going to be living in awkward town for the rest of this fic. **

**Also, Ruby has had a couple times in the series where using her semblance would have been quite beneficial (running from the Nevermore, chasing Roman, blah blah blah) so I've decided that it's a little erratic-she's the youngest, so maybe the ability is still settling down. I have no idea if characters in the RWBYverse develop their semblances or are born with them, so yeah. I kind of just went with the idea that would suck the most for Weiss.  
**

**Seriously tell me if the character tagging works better this way. If so, I'll fix the other chapter. If it's worse, I'll fix THIS chapter. Either way, thanks for the feedback.  
**


	4. No Easy Fix

**A/N: Hey, thanks for the feedback on the character labels. (Well, at least there were two of you. Everyone else seems happy in general, so that's great.) After much experimentation, I've decided to stick with what I had last chapter. It's easier to write, and much easier for me to keep straight when I read back over it. I'll of course still take any feedback you want to offer. **

**But for now, off to see the wizard...**

* * *

The halls of the administration wing were similar to academic halls of Beacon—vaulted ceilings, pillars, fine rugs. There were tapestries here and there depicting the accomplishments of past huntsmen and huntresses. One of the former, shown decapitating a murder of Nevermores with some kind of axe-gun, had a svelte figure and familiar, bushy mustache. No one was really here to pay attention to the wall art, though.

Teams RWBY and JNPR stood along the wall outside of Professor Ozpin's office, waiting for him to arrive. Most stood, anyway. Weiss paced, arms crossed, red cape swirling at her heels. Nora fluttered here and there, looking for patterns in the granite walls. Her pink-colored eyes were bright with concentration.

Ruby watched Weiss in something of a surreal daze. Weiss was _her_, stalking up and down the hall with impatience. Is this what she looked like to everyone else? Was her hair really that long in the back? Weiss scuffed her boots on the flagstones and had to regain her balance. She fumed, "Ruby, your feet are too big. No wonder you're such a klutz."

"I'd tell you to lay off my sister," Yang flipped Blake's dark hair over her shoulder, "But you probably haven't had to deal with a growth spurt since you were twelve. I bet you've forgotten what it's like."

"How dare you!" Weiss whirled on Yang, "I'll have you know I was just making an _observation_."

"Yeah? Well it sounded like an insult to me. Can't you just take it easy for a little while?"

"_We've all switched bodies._ I _think_ I'm entitled to being just a smidge concerned about this."

"Guys," Ruby stepped in, motioning with her hands for them to settle down, "Please don't fight. We'll get it figured out. Somehow."

Farther down the line, Jaune and Pyrrha leaned against the wall, avoiding one another's gazes while trying to carry on a conversation.

"Nice day, isn't it?" Pyrrha faltered, biting her lip, "I mean, besides the whole body-swapping thing."

"Yes. Definitely. So, uh, think Ozpin will be here soon?" Jaune's shoulders were rigid, his hands at his sides. What was he supposed to do with them? What did girls do with their hands when they weren't using them? Where could he put them without looking like a pervert? Behind his head? On his… _gulp_… hips? He tried to sneak glances at Blake and Yang. Blake, in Yang's body, was reading a book. She kept having to push her hair out of her face.

Aha! Messing with her hair. Should he mess with his—er, Pyrrha's—hair? Pyrrha did have nice hair. Red, and pretty easy to take care of. At least she'd thrown it into a ponytail for him somewhere in the midst of the panic of the morning, and it seemed fine. It wasn't in his face or anything, even. Crap. Maybe messing with it would be weird. He glanced at Pyrrha, who had her arms crossed over her breastplate and her eyes on the floor. Her face was red. Wait, did she say something to him? "Uh, what?"

"I said he should be here soon," she repeated, clarifying when he looked confused, "Ozpin. It's after nine."

"Ooh, look at this one!" Nora peered at a patch of stone in the wall that was darker than the rest through a frame she made with her thumbs and forefingers, "It looks like… a beowolf trying to swallow a giant doughnut."

"Do beowolves eat doughnuts?" Ren wondered aloud. He stood with his hands clasped behind his back, at ease. Wearing a pink skirt really didn't seem to faze him, but Ren really did tend to roll with the punches, so that wasn't much of a surprise.

"Probably not enough protein," Blake mused from the wall beside him. She flipped a page in her book and blew another wayward strand of gold from her face. Weiss, who had returned to her furious pacing, abruptly disappeared in a flurry of rose petals.

_Crash._

The distant sound came from a large decorative vase at the end of the hall that now lay in pieces around a staggering Weiss.

"_Ruby_," her voice carried back to the group.

"Uh, sorry?" Ruby rubbed the back of her neck and was startled by the jolt of cold. Yikes, her hands were freezing. She blew into them and rubbed them together.

"Guys, he's here!" Yang announced, waving the others' attention toward the nearer end of the hall. And indeed, the distinct clip of Ozpin's cane on the flagstones preceded him as he turned the corner, mug of coffee in hand.

Ozpin was tall, his silver-gray hair mussed as if by the wind. The emerald green cloth of his neckerchief drew attention away from his cane and slight limp. Being the headmaster of the prestigious Beacon Academy, he bore a certain air of mystery. It settled over his shoulders like a cloak as he paused, taking in the gaggle of students waiting beside his door.

"This is quite the morning welcome," he had a newspaper tucked under one arm. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Ruby opened her mouth only to realize she hadn't thought out how to go about explaining what had happened without sounding like an absolute nutcase. "We… uh… somehow have gotten kind… of mixed up."

Ozpin raised an eyebrow. He said nothing.

"Sir," Jaune stepped forward in Pyrrha's body, "I'm really Jaune Arc, and… and… please help us. Our bodies have all gotten switched with our partners'."

Professor Ozpin's other eyebrow joined the first. "Switched with your partners'?"

"I'm Nora!" Nora volunteered with enthusiasm, bouncing up and down, "But I look like Ren!"

"I… see." Ozpin regarded Ren's lack of level-headedness with growing understanding. Weiss returned to the group, still picking bits of shattered porcelain out of her hair. "And this has happened to all of you?"

"Yes," all eight members of the two teams confirmed. Ruby glanced side to side and found they'd gathered into a semicircle around the headmaster.

"Well," Ozpin said, taking a long sip from his mug. "That's quite a problem."

Following Ozpin's understatement of the century, the two teams were ushered into his office to wait while he stepped out to notify the medical staff. Shelves of books and various nick-knacks occupied much of the wall space. A framed document in some kind of illegible calligraphy hung near the window. It was large as offices went, but small for two teams. Pyrrha and Jaune took chairs. Ren stood. Ruby and a bristling Weiss both fit on a leather armchair, over which Yang loomed, her nose practically in Weiss's hair. The heiress ducked down, snapping at her, "Yang, personal space."

"What's that?" she leaned closer, nuzzling the dark hair that usually belonged to her sister. "Mm. Is this what Ruby's shampoo smells like to you, Blake? Sis, what do you use? I may need to get some of this."

Weiss planted a hand firmly on Yang's face and shoved her back, sending her crashing into a display of Grimm artifacts along the shelves lining Ozpin's office. The two girls stared at one another in surprise.

"Ow," Yang righted herself, rubbing the back of her head, "Overkill, much?"

"Serves you right," Weiss grumbled, settling back on her seat and crossing her arms hard, her face red with embarrassment. The differences in physical strength of their current forms were going to be an issue if they couldn't find a way to switch back.

Blake sighed and started tidying the shelf.

Just then, the door opened, admitting Glynda Goodwitch. The patterns in her purple half-length cape curled at her elbows as her emerald eyes appraised the lot of them a moment. She announced, "If this is some kind of prank, you will all be suspended until further notice."

"Ooh, this would make a _great_ prank. Think how we could confuse everyone!" Nora brightened, bouncing up from her seat on the edge of Ozpin's desk. A sharp look from everyone checked her. She glanced around at her teammates, "Yeah, I guess we've already done that."

"Professor Goodwitch, really, this isn't a prank," Pyrrha grimaced, holding up her gloved hands in evidence, "I'm Pyrrha Nikos."

"She's switched with me," Jaune's misery was evident. He hunched his shoulders, clearly regretting his decision not to change out of Pyrrha's pajamas. They had seemed fine when they were in the dorm room, but more and more he was noticing how light the tank top was —practically see through, probably—and how short the shorts were.

"Yes, well, we're going to need to run a few tests. We'll take you in turns," Glynda stalked into the room, arresting Ruby and Weiss with an indication of her riding crop, "You're the first to have noticed the change, correct? Come with me."

"Eep," Ruby squeaked as she and Weiss climbed off the leather chair to follow the austere professor. Thinking perhaps she should leave her team with something more leader-ish, she cleared her throat and hung in the doorway a moment, "Everything's going to be fine, guys. Just hang in there."

When she turned to catch up to Weiss and Professor Goodwitch, she found herself face-to-chest with Ozpin. She looked up. The edge of his mouth quirked up in a hint of a smile, "Ruby Rose. I could recognize you no matter what form you took."

"Um." Ruby dodged her eyes away from his, not sure where that was coming from.

But he was entering the office now, waving her off over his shoulder, "Go on. Don't keep Glynda waiting."

"Sure," Ruby slipped past him and scurried after her partner, a new anxiety rising in her chest. She was going to the health center. She vaguely remembered seeing signs for it posted around Beacon with information, but she'd never needed to actually go there. What were they going to do? Would they have to take blood samples? That involved needles, and she _hated_ needles. Her skin prickled, and she tried to rub her hands together to get rid of the feeling. And the cold. Sheesh, Weiss needed to carry around hand warmers, or something.

The medical staff quickly ascertained that there was absolutely nothing wrong with either of them—no pains, concussions, sprains, etc. Hearts sounded fine. Lungs sounded fine. Ruby gagged on a tongue depressor and Weiss just about kicked a nurse across the room when he tested her reflexes with that little hammer.

In short, everything was fine, except Ruby was apparently in Weiss's body and vice-versa. This was somewhat confirmed when the girl who appeared to be the Schnee heiress panicked over having her blood drawn. Even the most disconnected of the staff knew of the girl's ice-princess demeanor, and ice princesses didn't generally leap onto countertops and throw cotton balls at junior staff members trying to prick her fingertip.

Next came the interviews. Glynda called for an account from each team member, describing what happened and anything that could give them a clue towards the cause of the switch. Ruby mentioned the Dust lab accident and feeling super tired in the evening. Weiss began by detailing every slip-up Ruby had made prior to that till Professor Goodwitch called for events out of the ordinary, which cut the heiress short.

The others were brought in a pair at a time for physical examinations and questioning. The thought was to do everyone separately, but Ruby wanted to hear Blake's take on the morning's bathroom fiasco and pretty soon everyone was crammed into the examination room, building the story piece by piece. At some point they moved to the waiting room, as it had an abundance of seating. Yang brought up aliens. Nora was certain it was the biologists. Other than that, no one had a clue of what could have done it other than the Dust. It was the common link.

"Though how that could lead to everyone switching bodies…" Glynda adjusted her glasses, her brow furrowed. The medical staff present exchanged glances, shaking their heads in consternation.

"There are a few tests we're waiting for results on. We should hear back from the lab in a day or two," one of them offered.

Ozpin, who had joined the conference somewhere between the aliens and the biologists, mused, "Surely there's a record of similar occurrences, if they exist."

The medical staff had nothing. No cure. Nothing remotely similar to this case to use for reference. The closest thing they could suggest was eight cases of some bizarrely specific form of delusional schizophrenia, or a mass hallucination.

Ruby felt utterly deflated. Delusional schizophrenia wasn't the solution she was hoping for. It wasn't a solution at all I this case. She fiddled with the hem of her white skirt. Well, Weiss's white skirt. But she was Weiss right now. Ruby gave up thinking about it.

From her spot in the line of waiting room chairs, Weiss raised her hand. She stood out red and black against the stark white walls and upholstery. "What about the tournament, sir?"

That's right. It was Thursday. Already, Vale was decorated with banners and flooded with crowds for the festival. The combat tournament went into full swing starting Sunday. Everyone was signed up for the matches. How would they manage if they were stuck in each other's bodies?

"I'm afraid the dates for the matches are completely out of my control," Ozpin seated himself on one of the sterile-looking chairs lining the walls. "If you haven't returned to your proper form by the time you're scheduled to participate, it will be up to you and your partner to decide what to do."

"So we're really stuck like this? Indefinitely?" Pyrrha's voice quavered, belying her stoic mask. She wore Jaune's armor and shield well, her shoulders square against the coming pronouncement.

"Indefinitely," Ozpin confirmed, "It will be beneficial for you to continue with your academic classes. I'll issue you a pass for combat practice today if you wish, though you may want to take the time to familiarize yourselves with your present forms."

"Keep us advised of any changes in your conditions," Glynda said, eyeing them each in turn, "and likewise, you will be the first to hear of any developments on our end. Doctor, how soon should we expect to hear from the lab?"

"Tomorrow at the latest," the man in the white coat said, shrugging his broad shoulders.

"Is there anything we can do in the meantime?" Blake asked.

"Besides taking aspirin?" Weiss sat with her head down in her hands.

"Or weeping inconsolably?" Jaune half-laughed, noticed the others' concerned glances, and slumped back into silence. "I was kidding. Sort of."

"I'm afraid there isn't any sort of precedence for this," Glynda shook her head. "The staff will of course be available if there's anything we can do to help, but frankly there's not a lot _to_ do."

"Well, thanks anyway," Yang said. She and Blake wore grim expressions. Even Nora seemed subdued. "Are we dismissed?"

"Of course," Glynda tapped a few commands on her scroll and glanced back up to them. "I'm excusing you from any off-campus drills. I don't want you encountering Grimm in your current states."

"RWBY, JNPR, don't be disheartened," Ozpin rose, leaning on his cane, "If there is a remedy for this, we will find it. In the meantime, get along as best you can."

Murmured thanks were exchanged, and the two teams departed, leaving the medical staff and two professors behind. Ozpin heaved a long sigh as the sounds of the students' footsteps receded.

Glynda shut her scroll and crossed to the check-in desk for a piece of paper. "Well, I'm afraid that will have to be enough to see them through this. I do feel bad for Team JNPR. At least Lie Ren and Miss Nikos. They really don't deserve all this trouble."

A greenish blur shot into the waiting room, startling the medical team. A rush of words tumbled out of Professor Oobleck's mouth between sips of espresso, "Am I late? Did I miss the students?"

"They've just left now, Bartholomew," Ozpin said with a smile. His old colleague never failed to run late, despite his speed. It was a miracle he got most of his classes started on time.

"Too bad, too bad. Glynda, I received your message," Ooblek's glasses shone in the fluorescent lights, "It seems they're quite out of sorts, all ten of them."

Glynda shot Ozpin a slantwise glance, "Ten?"

"Hm. Come to think of it, weren't there ten students attending my Dust lecture? Never mind," Ozpin put his free hand on the small of her back, guiding her towards the hall, "I'm sure it will all come out right in the end. Let's go call on the other staff before our mixed-up students decide to play with each others' weapons."

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**A/N: Next chapter, Yang deals with being a faunus during class. And who are the two missing students? Yeah, you can probably guess.  
**

**I've edited the previous chapters for that whole character label thing and the correct spelling of Jaune's name. Because, I swear, I have yet to write a fic without messing up someone's name. Anyway, leave a review!  
**


	5. Yang has Special Issues

**A/N: Gasp! A mid-week update! Can it be?**

**Ha, it's because it's short and doesn't advance the plot AT ALL. The real update'll come on the weekend. Till then, enjoy.  
**

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So the visit to Ozpin hadn't really panned out. Sure, the health center staff ran a bunch of tests and asked a bunch of questions, and that doctor really wasn't bad looking for an old guy, but here Yang was, sitting in class, still occupying Blake's body.

They'd already missed their first combat class, which they all had together, and they'd had to run to make it in time for their next block. Ruby and Weiss had another combat class right after the first, but Yang and Blake had a lecture. A _second_ lecture (in addition to the one they attended as a team) led by none other than Professor Port. "Studies in Grimm Psychology", which translated to "Listen to Your Professor's Random Stories for an Hour-and-a-Half".

Listening should have been easy, what with two pairs of ears and all (human and faunus. Technically both faunus. Or was Blake a faunus with human ears? Hm.) but Yang somehow managed to remain absorbed in absolutely everything except for whatever words snuck out from beneath Professor Port's mustache. Her hair cascaded down on either side of her head, so elegant, so tame compared to what she was used to. She played with it, fascinated, while a dozen other distractions vied for her attention.

Everything was loud to her. Every scent stood out like a picture in her mind. Someone had spilled orange soda on that patch of desk. Someone else—she sniffed. Sky Lark, of CRDL—had stuck some kind of gum under the edge of the bench she was perched upon. That was gross. But not as gross as Professor Port's overpowering cologne. If he came any closer, she might gag.

She redirected her focus. Blake was on her right, taking notes. Even though she was in Yang's body, her handwriting was neat. Neater than Yang's, anyway, though maybe not as neat as her usual script. The scent of citrus in her hair was a blissful break from Port's cologne, but it was still strong. It stung in her nose. She sneezed violently, drawing the attention of the other students for a moment.

"Sorry," she said. Ren, in Nora's body on her left, had snapped his pencil in half. Dealing with Nora's augmented strength was probably a pain—she swung a hammer that weighed at least as much as she did. Pencils were nothing. Ren just shrugged and continued to use the pointed half.

The lecture droned on. Really, how many tales of daring-do could one man come up with? He'd have to be ancient for them all to be true. How old _was_ he? A hundred?

A small sound reached her sensitive ears. She perked up at once. What was that? She pushed her hair back over her set of human ears and listened with both sets.

There it was again.

A scuffling, somewhere inside the wall. She peered past Weiss and the other students, trying to ascertain the source of the sound.

A tap on her shoulder. Blake shook her head at her, indicating the ongoing lecture. Yang's attention flowed back to the tiny sounds in the wall.

Mice.

It had to be. There were mice inside the wall.

An unfamiliar urge swept through her, causing her hands to curl around the edge of her bench. Ooh. Adrenaline. She recognized that rush. Maybe this was some kind of hunting instinct? A cat thing, maybe? Definitely.

"Yang," Blake hissed. Yang swiveled back to her body-swapped partner. "We're in class."

"But there are _mice,_" she hissed back, eyes already wandering back to the wall.

"Ignore them. Focus," Blake lost Yang's attention again, "Focus!"

Instinct. How could she ignore instinct? Already her muscles were tense for the inevitable spring. There was a small hole in the baseboards at the edge of the room. That was probably how the mice got in. If she snuck over there, she could probably reach in far enough to get ahold of at least one of the little—

_Smack!_

"Ouch," Yang held her head, glaring at Blake, whose violet eyes burned into her. That didn't bode well. The rest of the class laughed.

"A problem, Miss Xiao Long? Miss Belladonna?" Professor Port raised a substantial eyebrow at the two. Yang grinned apologetically, and he continued with his lecture.

Blake scribbled something on a sheet of paper and slid it to her when the professor turned to indicate something on the board. Yang took it gingerly.

_You're a person, not an animal. Please, Yang, keep my secret._

Yang straightened up, shuffling blank pages over Blake's note and picking up a pen to take notes. Even though Blake had revealed her faunus heritage—albeit inadvertently—to her teammates, she had maintained the disguise in the presence of others at Beacon. There was no way Yang was going to be the one to blow her cover. Not in a million years.

She would just have to sort all her new senses and instincts out later. Maybe in an open field, or something.

Preferably an open field with mice.

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**A/N: Love focusing on just a couple characters at a time. I'll get back to the group at large in another chapter or so. In the meantime, I swear, a couple of you reviewers are psychic. (*cough*TheFlippantWriter*cough*)  
**

**That said, next up Ruby and Weiss are going to play with sharp objects.  
**

**Leave a review!**


	6. Ruby and Weiss are Not Well Equipped

The sun shone bright over all of Beacon. The windows of the towering structure glinted like diamonds and the banners hung fluttering from the pillars out front. The sky was blue, the birds were singing, there wasn't a Grimm or even an airship in sight. It was a gorgeous day.

The training fields behind the school were wide, level, and grassy, allowing students to spread out during practice sessions. Glynda often oversaw the indoor student-vs-student sparring matches, while outdoor drills and exercises were supervised by a pair of coaches. Having been informed of the… situation, they allowed the body-swapped students free time to sort themselves out on the field.

The two pairs of affected students— Ruby and Weiss, and Jaune and Pyrrha— decided to work (at Weiss's vehement insistence) in separate sections of the field in an effort to mitigate the embarrassment of their current lack of coordination.

Pyrrha, in Jaune's body, misjudged distances, tripped over her own feet, and generally fumbled Milo and Akouo till she was flustered and cross. Jaune, who wore his now-oversized school jacket over Pyrrha's pajamas, decided to sit out.

Meanwhile, in the back quarter of the training field, Weiss lowered Myrtenaster in disgust. The day's practice dummy was tattered and scored, as was the ground in front and beside it. How could she have so little control? Dust, she had even sliced through one of her boot laces and part of her sleeve. Thank goodness she'd thought to leave Ruby's cape on the edge of the practice field or it would be nothing but streamers. "This isn't going to work."

"No kidding," Ruby gasped, circling Crescent Rose into resting position, its point embedded in the turf and its grip bearing down across her thin shoulders. "Ugh," she toppled over backwards into the grass with a thud, leaving the scythe rifle standing on its own. Everything burned. Her arms, her back, her legs. She hadn't been this exhausted from working with her weapon since she'd first built it.

Weiss thrust her rapier's tip into the earth and sat down beside her partner's prone form. "You're getting grass in my hair."

"Don't care," Ruby lay with her eyes closed and her arms spread wide, white hair in disarray. "You owe me a pair of shoelaces, if we ever get switched back."

Weiss huffed, crossing her arms, "It's only one lace."

"You can't buy just _one_ shoelace."

"Please. Everything has its price."

"So you're going to go make some store owner sell you one shoelace?" Ruby propped herself up on her elbows, "That sounds fun. Can I watch?"

"Oh, be serious," Weiss sighed, uncrossing her arms and looking down at her hands. She opened and closed them, at a loss to account for her inability to adjust. "Why are we talking about this? We should be figuring out a way to manage the tournament."

The Vytal Festival began in earnest Friday afternoon. The combat tournament was Sunday. Ruby heaved a sigh, her face still pink from exertion. "I think we're officially out, Weiss. At least I am."

"Don't say that," Weiss levered herself back to her feet. She scowled as she brushed bits of dead grass from her black combat skirt, "Ruby, you're the leader. You're not allowed to give up like that."

"I'm not," Ruby scooted to sit next to Crescent Rose, whose blade was still transfixed in the field's grassy turf. She toyed with one of the bolts that allowed the scythe to collapse into its more compact form. "Just… Weiss, I don't think your body can handle my weapon," Weiss shot her a silver glare. Too late, Ruby realized her mistake and backpedaled, "I mean, maybe if I trained for a couple of months. No, uh, I mean, I mostly need to adjust to being a little shorter, and…" Weiss's expression continued to darken as Ruby continued to dig her grave deeper, "er…"

"Did you just call me _weak_ and _short_?" Ruby cringed as Weiss lowered her sword, "I'll have you know that while your body may be better suited to handling _farming equipment_, it's positively worthless when it comes to Myrtenaster."

"Hey, Crescent Rose is _not_ a piece of farming equipment," Ruby flushed, hugging the scythe rifle.

"Precision. Elegance. Poise," Weiss jabbed her finger down at Ruby, punctuating each word as she advanced on the younger girl, "You have _none_ of these qualities. Plus, Mytenaster's Dust channeling capabilities are fine-tuned with special regard to my semblance, which means that they're useless to me now unless I want to just open a chamber, run _really fast_, and hope it _blows up_ whatever I hit. Assuming your semblance will even activate!"

"Okay, you're mad, I get it, but at least you can _lift_ your weapon," Ruby shot back, rising and pulling Crescent Rose free of the ground with a great deal of effort.

"Of course I can! I didn't feel the need to compensate for my clumsy, undisciplined behavior with fifty pounds of sharpened metal when I designed it," she gestured to the massive scythe-rifle with a sweep of her arm, "You're impulsive, impractical, and have no _concept _of how hard others have worked to get here while you come waltzing in to this school with the bare minimum of training and expect everything to work out _just_ fine."

The spark of fight Ruby had shown when Weiss had insulted Crescent Rose was extinguished under the more personal barbs. It was true: Ruby had skipped two years' worth of training when she'd come to Beacon, and it obviously showed. She gave ground before the heiress, only just managing not to topple over backwards while handling her scythe's weight.

"You're nothing but an irresponsible _child_ who… who…" Weiss faltered, noticing her team leader's distress. A past promise—something about being the best teammate ever—came to mind. That, combined with the sight of, well, _herself_ on the brink of tears… "Rrrrrg!" Weiss turned away, fists balled at her side.

"Um…" Ruby peeked out from behind Crescent Rose's grip, which she had placed between herself and her partner as a shield.

"Ruby, I… this is… very _difficult_," Weiss took a deep breath in through her teeth and let it out slowly.

After a moment, Ruby hazarded, "… so… does this mean you're done yelling at me?"

"Would you prefer if I continued?" the heiress snapped.

"Yeah, no, that's okay," Ruby held both her hands at shoulder height in a placating motion. In doing so she had to release her grip on her scythe-rifle, which without strict control overbalanced her. "Ack!" She fell in a tangle on the grass.

Combat scythes were no joke. It would be almost too easy to lose a limb, especially when it came to the insanely sharp Crescent Rose. Weiss leapt to haul the scythe off while her partner grimaced and checked herself over for injuries. "Ruby, if you leave me with another scar, so help me I will—"

"Weiss!" Ruby yelped, pointing as the other girl lifted Crescent Rose like it was nothing. Panic flashed across Weiss's face.

"What?! Your finger? Did you cut off a finger? Oh Dust, if you don't die of blood loss _I'm going to kill you_."

"No, wait! I'm fine! Don't move." Ruby scrambled to her feet and backed away.

Weiss was holding Crescent Rose.

Weiss was holding _her_ weapon, Crescent Rose.

A small part of Ruby was scandalized, but the larger part was fascinated. This was like those times she sneaked Crescent Rose into her room and used her scroll's camera to take pictures while she practiced cool poses. Except better.

"Why are you staring at me like that?" Weiss frowned.

"You're stance is okay, and your grip is good. At least, you've got your hands in the right spots," Ruby said, stroking her chin as she appraised her partner.

Weiss looked at the scythe's grip in her hands and paled. She ducked her head, looking up to find where the curved blade started and stopped, her voice rising an octave, "How do I put it down?"

"Right," Ruby snapped out of her slight reverie and helped Weiss guide the scythe to the ground. Their eyes met as they crouched there in the grass over Crescent Rose. Ruby' gaze dropped to the sword at Weiss's side and then flickered back up to meet the heiress again. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

In answer, Weiss rose, straightening her sleeves, "I suppose fair is fair," She drew Myrtenaster and squared her shoulders. "You do know how to manage a sword?"

"Sooooort of."

"I'm taking that as a 'no'. _Don't_ touch the Dust chamber," Weiss fixed Ruby with a jealous gaze and reluctantly offered her Myrtenaster's hilt.

"I'll be careful. I'll be so, _so _careful," Ruby breathed and closed her hand around the mulit-action Dust rapier's grip. The metal was still warm from the sun and from Weiss's practicing. It felt familiar in her hand. Her eyes lit on the training dummy.

"Can I…?"

"_Can _you?" Weiss rolled her eyes, feigning indifference as her partner handled _her_ Myrtenaster. She waved a hand at the construct of cloth and foam, "Go on."

Ruby approached her target, adjusting her footing to find a stance that felt natural. She brandished Myrtenaster, again surprised at the familiarity of the weight and balance of the weapon in her hand. She glanced over her shoulder at Weiss for one more go-ahead, which the heiress gave in the form of a nod. Then Ruby lowered her stance and made a short lunge at the target—nothing complicated, nothing fancy—jabbing the red spot that marked her foe's heart and withdrawing in an instant to her original stance.

"Huh," she looked down at the sword in her hand. Maybe she imagined it, but the metal seemed almost to resonate with her touch. The Dust in Myrtenaster's chamber had a latent glow she could see even under the midday sun.

Weiss marched to the target to inspect the damage. A slit in the foam marked Ruby's strike. Her eyes narrowed. "Well. This has… potential."

* * *

Weiss ran Ruby through a number of fencing drills, each of which confirmed the girls' suspicions—their bodies seemed to possess all the muscle memory of their original owners. Ruby followed her partner's directions, allowing herself to fall into the stances that were most comfortable, her feet to land at the measured distances that felt right.

Weiss coached her through the basic forms, made minor corrections to her grip or hand position, and then watched as Ruby performed the drills… not flawlessly. Far from it. But astonishingly well for someone who had never fenced a day in her life.

"You're good at this," Ruby brushed strands of white from her face, "Like, really, _really_ good. Not that I hadn't already noticed, just, I don't know," she hefted the sword lightly, feeling the weight of it. Her hand—Weiss's hand—_knew_ this weapon. "It's like me with Crescent Rose." Her smile faded at that, and she cast a wistful look at her scythe rifle.

"Years of training does tend to have that effect, and your technique is still sloppy, but… not terrible," Weiss granted, a little unsure of how to deal with this situation. Swapped bodies _and_ swapped weapons. Of course, it was only temporary. Temporary was good. She cleared her throat and extended her open palm, suddenly impatient to have Myrtenaster back.

"Right," Ruby knelt with a dramatic flourish, offering the sword to Weiss gravely, "Thank you, best-partner-in-the-whole-world, for lending—"

"Ugh, just get up, you dunce," Weiss rolled her eyes as she took her weapon and sheathed it. "That is _precisely_ the type of thing I don't want pictures of," She dusted her hands off and crossed her arms, "So this means it's my turn with Crescent Rose."

"Nope," Ruby chirped, rising and straightening her ponytail.

"Excuse me?"

"Not yet," when Weiss opened her mouth, Ruby held up her hand, stopping her, "Do you know how to wield a scythe?"

"Is that not the point?" Weiss motioned to Myrtenaster at her side, "You _still_ don't know how to use a sword."

"Well, yes, but not knowing how to use a sword and not knowing how to use a scythe are two totally different things," Ruby's tone went serious at once. She counted off on her fingers, "First, we'll take Crescent Rose apart so you can see how she works. Second, I'll show you some of the general techniques and then we'll practice with the blade guard some… if I can find it… hm… maybe second we'll search for my blade guard."

"Ruby…"

"I promise it won't take that long, but we _have_ to," Ruby said, blue eyes pleading. "This is how Uncle Qrow taught me."

Weiss turned, gathering up Ruby's cloak from the grass. "Don't give me with puppy eyes while you're in _my_ body. It's revolting."

"But it works, right?"

"That depends. Are you trying to make me want to strangle you?" Weiss gritted her teeth, wadding up the bundle of red, "Because in that case, it works _exceedingly well_." Her stomach took this opportunity to growl loudly. She stared down at herself, mortified.

"Told you that you should have eaten the cookies this morning," Ruby said.

"Alright, fine," Weiss scowled at her team leader. Stupid growth spurts, requiring extra energy. Or whatever, "But this means you're going to have to get Crescent Rose back into compact form on your own. Remember, I want my body back in pristine condition. I swear, if you lose even a fingernail…"

"You just worry about not tripping over your shoelaces," Ruby dragged Crescent Rose so her grip was up straight and the back of the blade was on the ground. She triggered the collapse and pushed and pulled in all the right places to get the scythe to fold up on itself.

"Honestly, it's _one_ shoelace. I'm more than coordinated enough to—" Weiss experienced a vivid flashback of slamming into a breakfast table, "… you'd better tell me some more about managing your semblance."

"Yeah, good idea," Crescent Rose weighed a ton. Ruby hefted the weapon to her shoulder as she followed Weiss across the training fields towards the cafeteria. Her palms were already slick with sweat.

Hopefully the rest of RWBY and JNPR would be at lunch so she and Weiss could share what they'd figured out about muscle memory. Even more hopefully, the medical staff would be waiting for them with a way to get their original bodies back. Or maybe some of the others had figured out a way to switch back.

If they hadn't, she was going to have to give Weiss a lesson on how to use Crescent Rose. After all, she had already taken a turn with Myrtenaster. She was still a little giddy after that. How often did someone let you play with their weapon? And _Weiss_ sharing Myrtenaster? Ruby wondered if anyone besides her had ever touched the sword. Not counting if they were getting stabbed with it.

It was the same with Crescent Rose, though it wasn't like she had people jumping to hold her, or anything. That whole easy-to-lose-a-limb reputation kind of put a damper on that. Still, the thought of letting her partner try was both terrifying and exhilarating. Maybe helping Weiss work with Crescent Rose would show her that Ruby wasn't just a kid. She shifted Crescent Rose to get a better grip as she staggered the last few steps to the locker room door.

Ruby was really missing her body's strength right about now.

* * *

**A/N: So I have no idea how much Crescent Rose actually weighs. I hunted around online for information on the weights of scythes and sniper rifles and basically just aimed high and combined them. **

**So you know how Google picks up on what you're searching for and picks its sidebar ads accordingly? Yeah. Everyone who's used this computer in the past week is probably mystified by all the ads for scythe blades that have been popping up.  
**

**Anyway, Ruby gets reamed, but gets to play with Myrtenaster. Weiss is treated with all courtesy and respect, but has to tangle with a massive scythe-rifle. This seems like an okay trade off in my mind. That is to say, the next combat class is going to be a _blast _to write. Near-death experiences, here we come!  
**

**First, however, a visit to the cafeteria, where some new problems will come to light. And probably before that I'll do a short chapter visiting our paragons of awkwardness, Jaune and Pyrrha. He really does need to put on actual clothes at some point, right? Right.  
**

**Don't forget to review. You guys make me feel awesome.**


	7. Awkwardtown x1000

**A/N: Whoa, another mid-week update. Let's all cross our fingers and hope I have enough time to keep this schedule going.**

* * *

Waking up male had been quite a novel experience, Pyrrha admitted to herself as she marched Jaune back to their dorm room. Novel, and also horrifying. It wasn't as if she'd never wondered what it would be like to be a man. Goodness knows the thought had been an idle one, though, without any sort of wish to actually experience the ordeal. And it certainly hadn't involved Jaune, of all people.

Honestly, even if it had been Lie Ren she'd switched with, she could at least have managed to fake clinical disinterest or _something_. But Jaune? She could feel the redness creeping to her face as she opened the door for him and ushered him inside. The beds were still a mess. No one had bothered to make them in the rush that morning. The curtains were open, letting in the sun. The rest of the dorm was quiet.

"Alright," she placed a hand on her hip, "We're here. Get changed."

She had switched bodies, lost her ability to wield her own weapons, and had to fend off several students who thought it would be a good idea to wolf-whistle at her team leader, who happened to be trapped in her currently pajama-clad female body. How many more things could possibly go wrong today? She wondered as she watched Jaune dissolve into a stammering bundle of nerves following her request.

"Jaune, please," she said.

"Pyrrha, I don't think you understand," Jaune was still in Pyrrha's pajamas. The black school jacket worn overtop helped make up for the fact that she hadn't worn a bra to bed. A perfectly normal but in this case disastrous decision, as evidenced by the earlier wolf-whistlers. Jaune sat down on his bed, then quickly jumped back up, "I'm a teenage boy with raging hormones. _Raging._"

"Girls have hormones too, Jaune," Pyrrha herself felt quite strapping, sporting Jaune's armor and combat outfit. She rubbed the back of her neck, "Um. Actually, don't think about that. Think about changing into normal clothes. Who knows how long we'll be stuck as each other? You can't just stay in my pajamas for days."

"I didn't even think about that. What if this lasts more than a week? I'll have to shower," Jaune paled. The sleeves of his boy's uniform jacket drooped over his hands.

"You will _not_ go an entire week without showering," That line had to be drawn. Pyrrha took his arm and turned him to face her, "I know it makes you feel uncomfortable, but you may as well just get it over with and _change_."

"I _can't_," Jaune blushed madly, probably because he was looking up into what appeared to be his own face. Pyrrha caught herself staring at his now emerald eyes and blinked just as he pushed away, pacing back to his bedside, "Look, I know I'm not really one to talk about honor or chivalry or whatever, what with my sneaking into Beacon and all, but my parents raised me to…" his sleeve slid halfway down his arm as he waved his hand in the air, searching for the right words, "to… well, I hope, anyway… to treat a lady like she ought to be treated. And this is _your_ body—I can't just go undressing you or touching you or anything."

Well, that was just grand. Pyrrha sighed and leaned on the windowsill, arms crossed, the corners of her mouth fighting for a smile. Jaune stared her down with his green eyes, as if daring her to argue. She really couldn't stay mad, "Chivalry, huh?"

"Yes, chivalry," Jaune confirmed. He still couldn't decide what to do with his hands, and tried bracing them on his hips. Pyrrha covered her mouth quickly and cleared her throat to hide her laugh as Jaune continued, "Do you… uh… have a problem with chivalry?"

"Not so long as it's the right kind," Pyrrha got herself under control and stepped away from the windowsill, "So this is really a big deal to you?"

"It's not a big deal to you?"

"Of course it is, but I changed out of your bunny pajamas."

"Point taken," Jaune sank into one of the dorm's plain wooden chairs. "I probably wouldn't be able to figure out your outfit anyway. Girl clothes are complicated."

"What do you mean?"

He indicated Pyrrha's current attire, "I wear a short sleeved hoodie and jeans with some metal strapped overtop. You wear… some kind of warrior princess armor."

Pyrrha blinked, hearing her hometown's standard gear described as such, "It's really nothing fancy. You should see some of the designs back home. Mine's quite simple by comparison," she informed him, "Very functional, intended to allow for maximum freedom of movement."

"That's great and all, but how do you put it on?" Jaune asked. "How does it _stay_ on? There are no straps or anything holding it up, are there?"

Pyrrha stared at him for a second, debating with herself about how much detail she should go into. She settled for a simple, "Well, it's pretty form fitting," and added, "There are a couple of layers, too. It's really not that difficult to get into. You just kind of put your arms through the first one and…"

"You, uh, don't actually have to explain it all. I'm pretty sure I won't be able to do it."

"I could help," Pyrrha offered offhand, and suddenly realized that this could be the solution to their problem. "In fact, I'll do that."

"That might be even weirder than me trying to do it myself," Jaune scuffed his heel against the chair leg, but Pyrrha was already in the wardrobe, getting her outfit together.

"No, really, I think it'll be fine. It's not like I'm seeing anything new, after all, and you're right, a couple of the zippers are hard to reach, and it's a bit tricky to lace the greaves on yourself if you're not used to doing it."

"Wait, where can zippers go where they'd be hard to reach?" Jaune rose, backing towards the door. "Are you sure about this?"

"We have mostly combat classes today. Even if you end up sitting out, it can't hurt to be prepared, right?" Pyrrha dumped an armload of armor and clothes on Jaune's bed, "And I really would appreciate being dressed a little more professionally during school hours."

"But I mean, you are kind of in my body, and I am kind of in yours, and if you're helping me get dressed, uh… that's sort of…"

"Jaune," Pyrrha took both his shoulders, stopping him, "It'll take five minutes, tops. You can even close your eyes if it makes you feel better."

"And you're really okay with this?" Jaune asked, grimacing up at her.

"I'm really, one-hundred percent okay with this," Pyrrha gave him a gentle shake. Well, maybe ninety-five percent okay with it. That was enough, though. "We'll do this, go get some lunch, and then figure out how to manage the rest of the afternoon's classes."

"O-okay," Jaune took a deep breath. He slid his school jacket off and draped it over the back of the chair. For a second he and Pyrrha just looked at each other, trapped in a void of unspeakable awkwardness. "So…"

"Right," There was nothing for it now but to forge ahead. Pyrrha took hold of the hem of Jaune's pajama shirt, "I guess close your eyes if you want, and put your arms up."

She had just pulled her sheer sleeping top up over Jaune's head when the door burst open, admitting Lie Ren. As in Nora, in Lie Ren's body.

"_Ren, don't come in, Pyrrha's undressing Jaune!_" she called cheerfully over her shoulder as she rummaged through one of the drawers in the bottom of the wardrobe for a pair of socks. Then she was back at the door. She wriggled her fingers at them, "See you at lunch!" and the door clicked shut.

Jaune and Pyrrha stared at the oak paneled door. Pyrrha had thrown the pajama shirt back at Jaune, who was now clutching it to his otherwise naked chest.

Pyrrha turned to Jaune gravely, "We could leave school."

"Or commit ritual suicide," Jaune squeaked, red all the way from his shoulders to the tips of his ears.

"Maybe we can stow away on one of the ships from Vacuo."

"Seriously, I know a nice rooftop we can jump from."

* * *

**A/N: I'm so evil. **

**Leave a review!**


	8. Ren defends his manhood

**A/N: ****It's been a crazy week, and I've got a couple more crazy ones coming up. I'll update as I'm able. Let me know if there's anyone you particularly want me to mess with. **

**Someone requested a check-in with Ren and Nora, and this is what came to mind. **

* * *

"Nora, it's very thoughtful of you, but hiding a pair of tube socks in my underwear really isn't going to make me feel any better," Ren took a long sip of his tea, still trying to eradicate the mental image of Pyrrha and Jaune getting it on in the dorm room. More likely Pyrrha had gotten fed up with their team leader wearing her night clothes around the school, but still, the image was there and it needed to be erased.

"How do you know unless you try?" Nora coaxed, urging him to take the socks. Whose were they, even? Ren was certain he owned nothing of the kind. Upon further inspection, he noted a set of red initials sewn at the top. JA. Hm. Well, if he hadn't been settled on the matter, he would have been now. He was _certainly_ not putting Jaune's socks in Nora's underwear. All that remained was to convince her of that.

The cafeteria echoed with the talk and raucous laughter of the other Beacon students. The ingenious placement of windows high in the vaulted ceiling allowed the midday sun to fill the place with light without bearing down on them directly. While Nora chattered away, Ren allowed himself a moment to appreciate the elegance of the design. Perhaps in days gone by this had been a place of dances and feasting. Not that it wasn't anymore, in a sense—he had been seeing notices posted announcing the Beacon Formal for some time—but the throng of hungry teenage monster hunters didn't quite resonate with the quality of nobility the ancient stones evoked.

He tuned back into Nora's station just as her monologue took a dangerous turn.

"—not so bad. I mean, there's _tons_ of stuff I've always wanted to try if I were a boy. Like this!" she started climbing onto the cafeteria bench and undoing the clasps across the chest of her coat.

"Nora, wait," Ren spoke the warning, but it was too late. She whipped the jade coat off and threw the modest undershirt beneath it into the air, baring her—his—chest to the world. Students at the other tables turned to look.

"See?" Nora crowed to Ren, arms still raised over her head. "Nobody cares! If I were a girl people would be freaking out."

"Nora, please… put my shirt back on," Ren massaged the bridge of his nose. Dust, his skin was pale. Pasty, even. At least he was fairly toned. The other Beacon students laughed or shrugged and went back to what they were doing.

"I've always wanted to try having a mustache too," Nora rambled on, plopping back down on the bench. She stroked her upper lip, "Why don't you have more facial hair, Ren?"

"I really don't have any control over that," and thank goodness, or he might get his body back with a handlebar mustache to rival Professor Port's. He leaned back, gathering his coat up off the floor. "Nora, shirt."

"Wait. I'm trying to savor the experience."

"You can savor it when we're not in the middle of the cafeteria, you know."

"I can also pee in the woods standing up!" she realized, "Or in the men's room. Ooh, I've never used a urinal before. How do you flush those? Is there some kind of 'urinal etiquette'? What do I do if someone's at the one next to me?"

Ren laid his coat on the table, shifting into damage-control mode, "Just ignore them and aim for your own."

"What if girls hit on me? You _are_ pretty handsome. I mean, not that _I_ think you're particularly handsome, because that might be weird, but girls would have to be pretty crazy not to think you're good looking. Should I flirt with them? Do I let them down easy? Do I tell them I'm a woman in a man's body?"

"Please don't do that." He didn't feel like dealing with the repercussions of that approach. Fortunately Nora interrupted him before he could give any attempts at advice for dealing with infatuated girls.

"Oh, Ren! Ren! Ren," she was practically on top of him with excitement, "I need you to punch me between the legs."

Ren blinked. Well. Nora spilled out a stream of quasi-reasoning while he stared at her, stunned.

"I know it's supposed to hurt and guys always crumple up and make funny sounds when I do it to them but I don't know how _much_ it hurts and maybe I'll be able to finally know if it's worse than cramps or giving birth, or something, except I've never given birth, of course, but still, maybe—"

"Nora?"

"Yes, Ren?"

"No," he said.

"No?"

"Just, no."

Nora's face fell. The expression lasted only a moment before she brightened, "O-o-oh, right, this is one of those important guy things," she giggled, planting her hands on her hips, "Well, no worries, mister, from now on, consider me the official protector of the family jewels."

Terrific. She would probably list it on her resume: official protector of Lie Ren's family jewels. Ren tried to protest, "That's really—"

Nora ignored him entirely, raising one clenched fist, "If anyone tries to mess with these, I'll show 'em some _real _rocks. As in the kind you find on the ground, not the euphemistic kind. And by 'show' I mean 'hit them in the head with'."

Ren took a long, steadying sip of tea and sighed in surrender, "You're too kind, Nora."

"Don't mention it!" She grinned, puffing out her chest, "We are best friends, after all."

The edge of Ren's mouth twitched up in a smile. On the bright side, this had certainly been an effective means of forgetting what was going on back in the dorm room. He handed her the bundle of green material, "How about you put your coat back on now?"

"Nope. Still savoring."


End file.
